Father and Son
"Quinn, what about us? Are we yours too?"
"…What?"
"You told Bayul he was one of your people, right? So what does that make us? We're yours too, aren't we? Right? Right?"
Eli and Aidan cornered Quinn as if demanding he answer them nicely. What Quinn didn't know was that the two of them had resolved that if they didn't hear the words you're one of my people by the end of the day, they wouldn't let him sleep a wink.
"Hm? Quinn? Come on, say it."
"Are we included too? Are we your people?"
"Where did you even learn a line like that? My heart went thump-thump just now! Do people say that a lot in the Mermaid Kingdom?"
"You lot, seriously! Would you give it a rest already?"
"Aww, but I want to hear it again. It was so sweet!"
"Just once more — come on, just once!"
Under the two friends' relentless bombardment, Quinn was on the verge of losing his mind. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to dump a bucket of water over their heads, but strangely enough, whenever it came to those two, his resolve kept softening.
Knock knock.
That was when the knock sounded.
"Yes, who could—"
Bayul opened the door with a smile, stepping in on behalf of his friends, still lost in their game. And the moment he saw who was standing there, he froze solid.
"D-Duke Randert!"
The living legend of the Empire.
The man who had ended the Ten-Year War.
Bayul's own father, and one of the central pillars of the court, had come all this way to see his son in person. It was their first reunion in over two months. Yet far from joy, the hand gripping the door handle trembled with pure nerves.
Chapter 2 — Father and Son
"Aren't you going to invite me in?"
Bayul was not the only one frozen stiff by the Duke's appearance. His visit came as a complete surprise to every friend in the room as well.
"P-Please, have a seat over here!"
Thankfully, the quick-witted Eli pulled himself together and, a little late though it was, ushered the Duke toward the sofa.
"Thank you."
Duke Randert smiled and stepped inside. Two knights followed quietly behind him — the same escorts of his father whom Bayul knew well.
"Am I interrupting something?"
"What? No! Not at all! Of course not! We were just a bit flustered to meet someone we'd only ever seen in books — but truly, not at all!"
Eli waved his hands emphatically in denial.
"The truth is, we were just fooling around among ourselves… Bayul, what are you doing over there! Come and sit down already!"
Even then, Bayul remained rooted in place, still clutching the door handle.
Click.
The sound of the door closing seemed unnaturally loud. With the long table at the center, Bayul and his friends gathered on one side, while Duke Randert took his seat alone across from them. The two escort knights, as ever, did not sit but stood at attention behind the Duke.
"It's a pleasure."
The Duke greeted them first.
"So you're the ones who are our Bayul's friends."
…Our Bayul?
Bayul was taken aback by the Duke's unexpected choice of words. How long had it been since his own name had been spoken so affectionately from his father's lips?
Even the memory was hazy now. The days long ago, when Bayil was still at his side. The three of them sharing dinner, playing chess until dawn, laughter that never seemed to stop. One night, unable to fight off sleep any longer, he had even used his father's lap as a pillow and drifted off beside his brother.
He had been happier than anyone — and that was precisely what made the present hurt all the more.
Brother…
The guilt over Bayil, which he had barely managed to keep at bay, came surging back to bind Bayul once again.
Entirely unaware of his son's inner turmoil, the Duke surveyed the friends before him with smiling eyes, taking his time.
The first to catch his attention was, unsurprisingly, Quinn — his son's roommate, the prince of the Mermaid Kingdom. The boy's finned ears seized the Duke's gaze.
The energy of water, is it?
Such a cold expression.
The intensity with which Quinn stared straight back at the Duke without so much as blinking was quite fierce. Sitting up straight with his chin lifted, he even came across as rather audacious.
But not bad. He liked that the boy refused to be intimidated even in his presence. For Bayul, whose temperament was so gentle, a boy like this was exactly what he needed.
Come to think of it, I ought to thank him first.
He already had a fair guess as to who had pulled the strings behind his son's room assignment.
"My name is Eli. It is an honor to meet you, Duke Randert."
Eli, seated beside Quinn, greeted him with a bright smile.
A striking boy. His dazzling looks were one thing, but even dressed in the same uniform as the others, there was something about him that felt distinctly different.
Hard to put into words — yet the moment the Duke met those crimson eyes, for some reason the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. It was a kind of warning, he had learned. Whenever he felt this sensation, something was bound to happen.
A gypsy, was it?
He held no prejudice against the gypsy clans, but this particular boy warranted a closer look.
"It's been some time since we last met. I trust you've been in good health?"
Logan rose and bowed with meticulous courtesy. Outwardly composed, he was working desperately to appear so — but inside, his heart was pounding like a drum.
"Ah, it has been a while. I've heard word of you now and then from your father. You've shot up even taller than I'd heard, haven't you?"
This was a reunion with Logan, whom the Duke had cherished like a son of his own. The boy seemed to have grown up healthy and strong, but unlike the spirited youth of before, a shadow had settled over his face. There was even a flicker of something restless beneath the surface.
So it still weighs on him.
The Duke's own heart was none too light as he looked at Logan — precisely because he understood that feeling all too well.
Fully accepting Bayil's death.
That was the unfinished task they all still had to work through.
"Now that Logan has introduced himself, that makes you the grandson of Count Leonett, I take it."
Duke Randert raised his voice slightly, addressing Aidan.
"You know my grandfather?"
Aidan, who had been about to make his own formal introduction after the others, jolted in surprise. Of all people, his grandfather was the one person with zero interest in court politics. Aidan had naturally never imagined he would have any connection to Duke Randert.
"Of course I do. Though he's grown quite old now, in his day he was braver than any man alive."
"You mean the invasion from the skies?"
"He was remarkable even then, but the tales of Count Leonett go far beyond that. The first time I laid eyes on him, long ago, to my young eyes there was no one more magnificent in all the world. I actually dreamed of becoming a knight alongside the Count."
"R-Really?"
Aidan had been cursing the old man as a senile geezer for ages — this was enough to knock him off his feet. This was the same grandfather who did nothing from dawn to dusk but scheme up new ways to work him to the bone. Such a reversal was truly beyond anything he had expected.
"It seems Count Leonett has never shared his tales of glory with his grandchildren. As tight-lipped as ever, I see."
Tight-lipped was an understatement. The old man's tongue was as sharp as a blade, and it had a habit of plunging a dagger straight into Aidan's chest.
"Could you tell me just one of those tales?"
"No, I couldn't possibly. Next time, ask your grandfather himself."
The House of Leonett was famous as a family of wealth — first in fortune, second in fortune, and nothing else worth naming. But while it wasn't advertised, their hidden martial prowess was by no means to be dismissed. If this mischievous young grandson had inherited even half of his grandfather's talent, he would surely grow into the stuff of a fine knight.
"Meeting in person the friends I'd only known through letters — it delights me. Seeing that Bayul has made such good companions puts my mind at ease as his father."
"The honor is ours."
"You really are young, just like they said."
Even knowing it beforehand, Duke Randert's appearance was nothing short of staggering. Father and son as they were, the Duke and Bayul clearly resembled each other.
But in truth, they looked less like father and son than like brothers.
"This is the first time I've met someone I only knew from history class."
"Same here. Bayul's so modest about it that I honestly forgot, but he really is Duke Randert's son. The silver hair and all — you two look exactly alike."
Faced with the Duke himself, Aidan and Eli chattered away without a hint of hesitation. They had seemed quite stunned at first, but at some point they'd relaxed entirely, and now they fielded the Duke's questions on Bayul's behalf like his official spokesmen.
"How has the manor your uncle arranged for you been? Anything inconvenient about living there?"
"It's huge and amazing! Rita lays out this incredible feast every weekend just waiting for us. We've eaten there ourselves — the food was absolutely to die for!"
"Rita's cooking was renowned even back in Hamilton. I'm truly glad she's at your side. She bawled and threw a fit demanding we bring Jasper along too, so I wondered if she'd manage, but it seems my worries were for nothing."
"…Is Jasper doing well?"
That was the first question to slip out of Bayul's mouth. He didn't even ask why the dog hadn't been sent along with him. All he needed was a single word — that Jasper was all right.
"Don't worry. He's doing very well."
Jasper missed Bayul terribly too. But the Duke had no wish to trouble his son's heart with needless words.
"Bayul made a new friend — have you perhaps heard about him?"
"A new friend?"
"Yes! His name is Black — an enormous dog! His fur is snow-white, pure as can be, but you see, the reason he's called Black is—"
Aidan had never known the boy was such a chatterbox. Dredging up the incident of Rita's bath, he even went so far as to explain Black's embarrassing secret(?) to the Duke.
"Ho ho, now that's an amusing story. That Black fellow sounds like someone I'd like to see for myself. I can't imagine why Ian never thought to mention any of this in his letters."
"Oh, since Sir Ian came up — he's really something, you know. At the night market, he took on four knights four-against-one and finished them all off with a single strike, just like that! The power of House Randert amazed me all over again!"
"A-Aidan!"
There was nothing good to come of his father knowing this. Whatever the circumstances, those had been knights of House Hector. With nobles from across the realm flocking to the capital right now, the last thing Bayul wanted was to stir up his father's temper over something trivial.
"Ah… oh no, did I go too far?"
Meeting the Empire's hero in the flesh was one thing, but Aidan had even exchanged friendly conversation with him. To a boy dreaming of becoming a knight, Duke Randert — a man who had reached the very summit of Sword Meister — was the object of his admiration, plain and simple.
He'd opened his mouth in his excitement, greedy for just one more word with the man, but he should have left that last topic alone. This cursed habit of his — losing all sense the moment he got worked up — was the problem.
Sorry, Bayul.
Aidan puckered his lips and shot his friend a look of deep remorse.
But it was already too late. Duke Randert's expression had turned grave.
"You went to the night market?"